The ABCs of Zelda Villainy
by Zephyr Fyrian
Summary: A collection of alphabet based oneshots detailing the life and horrors of Legend of Zelda villains. Warning: These are intended to be dark.
1. Apathy

**(A/N) Hello, and welcome to my newest series: _The ABCs of Zelda Villainy._ Here I'm going to write one story for each letter of the alphabet, based around a certain word. Each of these will be written in an attempt to more flesh out and understand why _Legend of Zelda_ villains are so villainous.**

 **These oneshots are intended to be darker and more serious than my previous works, so if that's not your thing, don't read it. I don't want anyone getting disturbed or creeped out if they don't want to. Nothing here is explicit or sexual, just dark with some blood and occasional gore(not really that much though).**

 **I personally love villains, so this is something I've wanted to do for a while. It seems to me like a lot of people write villains and bad guys off as simply being 'evil' without giving any thought to how they might've ended up that way. Unfortunately, some of the villains in _Legend of Zelda_ have suffered from backstory or depth loss. It is my goal to remedy that.**

 **That said, here is the first installment of _The ABCs of Zelda Villainy._**

 **Happy(or not really) reading!**

* * *

 ** _Apathy_**

It was near the end of the day, and a man was walking back through the Palace to his wing after hours of sitting by the King's side. This man was tall and thin, with a rather skeletal build and spidery hands. He wore a long beard, but kept his head bald. His skull and forehead were decorated with blue tattoos, the designs each telling a different story. The man was the King's main advisor, and the cloak he wore showed this. He didn't wear a shirt, and kept the front of the cloak open, leaving his chest bare. His people didn't often wear much in the way of clothing, and wearing a cloak was rare, but it showed his status.

He oftentimes found the overlong sleeves to be impractical, but he managed to get on fine. They all did. Nothing was great, but nothing was terrible. Everything was simply fine, and everyone was fine with that.

Everyone except for the advisor's son.

The young man was different, discontent. He got angry easily, which was unheard of among their people, since emotion was something everyone kept under metiphorical lock and key.

The advisor thought that his son was just going through a phase, and would eventually grow into normal apathy.

How wrong he was.

When the man reached the wing of the Palace he lived in, he was feeling content, having had a productive day with the King and the Princess, and was ready to retire to his quarters with his son. It had been nearly a year since the passing of the advisor's wife, but it seemed that the advisor's son had still not completely recovered. The advisor didn't entirely understand why, since he didn't feel emotions like his son did, but he too had grieved the passing of his wife.

The advisor didn't understand his son when he talked about emotions, but he tried to listen anyway. What he felt for his son was very vague, but it was there, and it was stronger than anything he felt about anyone else, except perhaps his late wife.

He sometimes pondered how his son would fare as a royal advisor, since he would take over for his father once the man died or became incapable. The way he thought about this was akin to what concern was like for light beings, but it wasn't nearly as strong.

As he came upon the door to his quarters, he wondered what his son was doing. The young man spent much time in his chambers, doing who knows what, and occasionally would spend time with the Princess. The Princess adored him, and seemed to be the only other one who had emotions like him.

The advisor opened the door and found his son sitting in the gathering room with his back to him. He was thin like his father, but had the same sharp cheekbones and orange eyes as his mother. His hair was a dark wine red, just like his father's, but he had no beard and kept his hair short.

All seemed normal, but as the advisor closed the door he noticed something in his son's hand. The young man was holding what appeared to be a sliver of black matter, shot through with a matrix of red and aqua lines.

"Good evening, my son." the advisor said blankly, as usual.

The young man didn't respond, he only held the sliver of black up higher, showing a line of greenish liquid that had gathered along the edge. As the young man tilted the sliver, the liquid slid along the material and began to drip off, splattering on the pristine grey floor.

"What is that?" the advisor asked, a hint of something creeping into his heart. He tried to shut it down, but it refused to listen to his demands.

"Blood," murmured the son, turning his head to the side to look at the sliver thoughtfully.

The advisor's eyes widened ever so slightly, startled by what he saw.

He had always known that his son was considered handsome, and that many young women his age might have seen him as a potential husband, but his strange personality and violent mood swings(at least compared to everyone else) were off turning.

However now, his son appeared to have run something sharp over his lower eyelid, cutting a long tear in the skin. Shimmering green blood ran down his skeletal cheek and jaw, dripping off his chin onto the ground.

"What have you done to yourself, my son?" the advisor asked, the very slightest of dread in his tone.

His son turned his head completely, revealing that the same tear had been cut into his other eyelid as well. There was a manic gleam in the young man's eyes as he lifted the black blade in his hand and slid it between his lips. The advisor tensed a tiny bit, his heart beginning to beat a little faster. His son smiled, but the smile was empty and apathetic, something the advisor had never seen on his son's face before.

Suddenly the son's hand jerked and tore a slit in the side of his mouth. He didn't even flinch. The advisor's heart skipped a beat in fright. The unsettling smile on his son's face didn't falter as he dragged the blade over his lips and pressed it into the opposite side, tearing that side as well. The advisor couldn't breathe. His son tilted his head slightly and pressed the knife downwards, cutting a diagonal slit underneath the first. He repeated his actions on the other side, afterwards dropping the blade and spitting green blood out of his mouth, as the fissures were still bleeding.

"Apathy," his son said softly, his eyes growing larger until they were perfect round orbs of orange. His lips pulled back as he spoke, blood mixing with thick saliva, coating his teeth in green liquid. "That is all you feel. Because you feel nothing."

The advisor shivered, but didn't show any emotion on his face. His son's face twisted in a gruesome scowl, and he stood up to his full height, a good two heads taller than his father. Orange eyes connected with red ones, and then narrowed.

"My son-" the advisor began, but something flashed in his son's eyes that made him stop. Made him fear.

 _What had happened to his son?_

"I am not your son," the young man spat, baring bloody teeth and hissing. "Do not call me that ever again, you foolish man."

The young man shoved his father aside and strode out angrily, his torn up mouth contorted into a hideous snarl. Green blood was still dripping down his chin, but he paid it no heed.

The advisor fell to his knees as the door slammed shut, and for the first time since he was a babe, he cried.

"Oh, Zant, my son," he whispered. "What have I done to you?"

* * *

 **(A/N) And there we go. This isn't going to have a regular update schedule, since I don't have all of them planned out, but this is something I really want to finish. If you have any suggestions for letters, please let me know. I'm trying to keep this away from humor and fluff, and focus more on the serious stuff, like tragedy, pain, and the things that would catapult villains into being villains. Of course, this isn't all backstory, and there will be some that are based around the atrocities committed by the villains in-game, and/or things I think it would be interesting to see them react to.**

 **Thank you for reading, friend! :3**


	2. Barbaric

**(A/N) Hello! Here's the next oneshot in this series. This word was suggested by A fan of zelda, so thanks for the word suggestion! :D**

 **This one isn't as long, but the next one is longer, so hopefully that will make up for this one being short.**

 **Happy(maybe) reading!**

* * *

 ** _Barbaric_**

Dusk rapidly approached. The bright golden sun was sinking below the shimmering sands, leaving a scattered painting of reds and purples and oranges in its wake.

Gold eyes looked on as the burning heat from the ball of fire slowly faded and cold began to seep into the dunes. The eyes narrowed as their owner thought of the blissful green fields of Hyrule and its plentiful bounty of fresh crop.

He hissed in anger and spite, and clenched his fist.

Barbaric. That was what the Hyrulians thought of the Gerudo. They stole from caravans, they abducted men from towns, they dressed as warriors and were generally inhospitable.

All of these were true, in a way.

The Gerudo stole from caravans because the Hyrulians had driven them out into the harsh, unforgiving territory of the Great Desert and had no way to grow crops on their own. They took men from Hyrule because there simply _were_ no men in the tribe, and no man would willingly come to them because of all the false tales spun about them. They dressed as warriors because that was what they were, that was what they had to become after being banished to the desert. They didn't talk to non-Gerudo in a polite way because most of the time they had to prepare to fight or kill.

It wasn't a pleasant life, but it was one the Gerudo had to adapt to.

In reality, it was the Hyrulians that were the barbaric ones. They refused to trade with the Gerudo, or even let them into Hyrule peacefully to work, raise their daughters, or even to find a husband. No, Hyrule was very strict about their border control, and it angered the Gerudo's king.

Throughout Hyrule and the surrounding lands he was known as the King of Thieves, because that was what the rest of the world saw him as, but in truth, he was the king of a once-proud tribe of warriors who sought only to make a life in the land they had been given.

The King had sworn to one day take back some of Hyrule's land and give it to his people so that they would prosper as the Hyrulians did. It was unfair, how the Gorons and Zora and even the Deku lived in peace, just happily drifting from day to day within the borders of Hyrule, when the Gerudo had to fight for their lives every waking moment, whether against the brutal heat or harsh cold.

Needless to say, the Gerudo were a very abused tribe. And their king wanted to remedy that.

It wasn't long before his gold eyes caught sight of a small group of Hylian men skirting the edge of the desert, seemingly moving at such a late time so as not to be seen by Gerudo lookouts.

The King would see to it that these vagabonds would recieve justice. He gathered together a selection on warriors that were strong but stealthy and left the fortress.

They dispatched of the scouts easily and silently, and before the men knew what had hit them the Gerudo women had scimitars by their necks and their hand behind their backs.

The King smirked as he walked into the Hylians' view, his gold eyes glimmering in the low light. The man who appeared to be the leader was shoved down on his knees in front of the Gerudo King, shaking in fear.

 _"Good,"_ thought the King to himself, _"As he should be."_

"What are you doing in Gerudo territory?" the King growled.

The man didn't answer, instead choosing to look down and quiver. The King was displeased and drew his own sword, pushing the man's chin up with the tip of the blade. Dark red blood began to seep out of the small cut, and the man whimpered.

"I do not want to repeat myself, slime." snarled the King, pressing the sword harder against the Hylian's throat.

"W-we were m-merely t-travelling!" the man gasped, his eyes bulging. "P-please! We aren't h-here to at-attack you!"

"Hmph," the King sneered and pulled his sword away, letting the man's chin fall.

"Not that you care…" muttered the Hylian in a quiet voice. The King's ears picked up on this however, and he smirked again, whirling around.

"No, you are right." he said to the man's head, which was now a few feet away from his body, having been severed by the King's sword. "I do not particularly care."

* * *

 **(A/N) Hehe, that was actually a little bit amusing. Presumably this is Ganondorf, but it could just be another Gerudo King. I dunno, you decide.**

 **Thanks for reading! If you have any word suggestions(remember, I've already writted 'C') then let me know and I'll see what I can do. Or if you have any _Legend of Zelda_ villains you want me to write about, just tell me and I'll work on it! :3**


	3. Controlled

**(A/N) Oh boy.**

 **Okay.**

 **I think I should probably warn you now.**

 **THIS IS VERY DARK.**

 **halp**

 **Lol, but srsly, this is the darkest thing I've written, and I don't want people getting triggered. So read at your own risk. It isn't graphic, but it does mention violence and just general darkness.**

 **I suppose this could be interpreted as a ship/pairing, but it's not intended to be. It's there if you want it to be.**

 **One last warning: if you can't take this kind of gore(sorta I guess?) then don't read.**

 **To everyone else?**

 **Happy reading!(psst, it won't be happy)**

 **'cept the end. it has a nice ending.**

* * *

 _ **Controlled**_

I stared in confusion as the strange white fog cleared from my mind, noticing that I had moved from my place by the wall to the middle of the room. There were scorch marks on the ground, and I wondered how they got there.

 _Was that me?_

I looked down, realizing I was kneeling, and my eyes widened.

 _Princess Zelda?_

It was very hard to tell if it was her, since the corpse was so mutilated, but it seemed to be wearing the same shoulder armor and crown, though both seemed significantly melted.

I felt sick.

I had been trained for battle, to fight, to kill, but I had never done something so horrific before. As the white fog cleared completely I realized what had happened.

Cia had had her way.

I had refused to kill the Princess, since she was without a weapon, and I wasn't going to attack an unarmed opponent. Cia had not taken that lightly, and I should have known she would take control of me and finish the job herself.

I hadn't expected it to be so violent.

The Princess's body was almost unrecognizable, what with the multiple burns, cuts, and missing pieces. I shuddered, but could not look away.

Cia laughed from somewhere behind me.

"There, there, little dragon." she mocked. "Don't look so down. Don't dragons always kill princesses in the stories?"

 _Not this one._

I by no means hated Princess Zelda, but I didn't like her either. I didn't like much of anyone, besides the Lizalfos clan I'd been raised by, and even that was a stretch, but seeing her like _this._ Torn, burnt, _melted._

I wanted to retch.

Cia's laughter echoed around me as she left the room, off to do who know's what with that hero.

I wanted to leave, to run, fly, get as far away from the stench of burnt flesh and death as I could, but I couldn't let go of her body.

So I stayed. Kneeling on the cold ground, the body of the girl I had just murdered cradled in my arms.

I was a knight, not an uncivilized assassin, or rogue, how could I have done this?

Deep inside I knew it was Cia who had killed the Princess, but I blamed myself.

My entire life was spent training to become the strongest, to be the best, the most powerful. The fact that a tiny thing like Cia had overcome me multiple times was crushing. I acknowledged my arrogance, but while I thought highly of myself, I fought fair. If my opponent didn't have a weapon, I wouldn't challenge them.

Yet here I was, holding the torn body of a helpless victim that I had murdered in cold blood.

It chilled me.

I slowly raised my hand to touch the one part of her that wasn't ripped, burnt or missing. Her right hand. It was, from what I understood, the hand that had held the Triforce of Wisdom. Perhaps that was why it remained intact. It still had several small cuts and was covered in crimson blood, but it was whole.

That was more than I could say about the rest of her.

What Cia had said before, about dragons always killing the princesses, was that true? Did Princess Zelda only die in such a excruciating way because I defied fate? Did I bring this upon her?

I wondered if I was going insane; I wasn't the type of person to put stock in superstition. Of course, Cia had clearly stated that that boy, Link, had the Spirit of the Hero, and that Princess Zelda was Hylia reincarnated.

 _I killed Hylia incarnate._

My breath was getting shallower; was I dying too? Or was the trauma taking effect? Ridiculous, I'd been in many battles, I'd killed people, I'd-

But I hadn't shredded them and burnt them alive like I had Princess Zelda.

My arms tightened their hold on what was left of the Princess's body, bringing what was once her head to rest against my chest.

 _What have I done?_

I felt my wings unfurl and wrap around me, an instinctive move done when the dragon is scared or defensive. I hadn't been afraid in a very long time. The feeling was strange and foreign, frightening in and of itself.

I once again looked down at the destroyed corpse in my arms. Something in my chest tightened. Princess Zelda was supposed to be a constant, someone who always endured, no matter the circumstance. She wasn't harsh and stubborn like that Sheikah woman, but rather held her own regality and elegant tenacity. She was above our petty battles, she wasn't supposed to get involved.

In other words, she was untouchable.

Yet now she was lying dead in the arms of the Dragon Knight who had tried to kill her bodyguard and…what exactly was the Hero to the Princess? A brother? A friend? A lover?

To be completely honest, I actually didn't have a clue. I knew Cia had said that Link and the Princess were always romantically involved, but was that just her jealousy speaking?

No matter that, the point remained that Princess Zelda should have been held in the arms of Link, or Impa, or Lana, or anyone else who wasn't me or Cia.

Someone she loved and cared for. Her family. Her friends. Her comrades.

All people I had killed to prove myself to…to what? To who? Cia? My clan? King Dodongo?

…Myself?

The smell surrounding me was suffocating, but I couldn't bring myself to leave, couldn't drop the Princess's body, couldn't fold my wings, couldn't even breathe.

I just wanted to turn back time and go back to when everything made sense. When I lived with my clan in Eldin Caves, training myself to death, studying different types of weaponry, forging my armor.

Not here in this cold thone room with its dark walls and the smell of blood, burnt flesh, death. Not kneeling on the ground, shaking like a hatchling, holding the mutilated body of a woman I had once respected, but fought against, with my wings curved around us like a curtain of fire.

But the fire was not warm.

There was no comforting heat coming from inside of my chest, lifting off of my scales, seeping into my armor, no. There was just coldness and numbness.

I wanted to be numb. To not feel. To feel anything but this deep regret, this guilt, it weighed me down like Death Mountain itself had collapsed on my back.

Most of all, I didn't want to remember.

When the white fog of possession faded out, I began to remember pieces of what had happened. Most of it was a blur of red and orange, sharp clangs of metal against metal, and roars that I assumed must've originated from me.

But what I didn't want to remember were the screams. The horrible screams of agony. High pitched and frightened sounds. I didn't want to remember the fear I saw in Princess Zelda's blue eyes when I had advanced on her while under Cia's spell. I didn't want to remember the way her skin easily ripped by my halberd, or the way her legs snapped like twigs under my armored boot.

And most of all, I didn't want to remember how much I'd _enjoyed_ it.

I had been grinning cruelly the entire time, taking pleasure in the way she pleaded for me to stop, to resist Cia's spell. Loving the way she screamed when I had burned her wrist so much the hand was barely attached.

I tried to clear my head of the memories, but the smell, the sight, the thoughts- they were all too much. I couldn't stop them.

It was then that I broke.

I went numb-

I stopped doing everything-

I closed my eyes, finally shutting out the image of the Princess's burnt body-

And then all was black.

Blissfully silent.

Wonderfully clean.

Comfortingly warm.

And amidst that blackness, that endless night, far as the eye could see, I swear I heard her voice whisper:

 _"I forgive you, Volga."_

* * *

 **(A/N) those feels tho**

 **So, that was a bit intense. Was it written well? I hope so. Normally I would ask if you enjoyed it, but I highly doubt you did.**

 **If you want to suggest a word for any of the other letters, or have a villain you'd like to see in this series, let me know and I'll see what I can do.**

 **I like the ending, it was very emotional.**

 **I wanted to portray the feelings of hopelessness, shock, and guilt all in one, because while I do think Volga is still a villain, he isn't necessarily an evil person(plus he's controlled by Cia). I imagine he is very honorable when it comes to battles(at least in his right mind), and so I think this would really take its toll on him.**

 **And now I'm going to shut up so you can escape.**

 **Thanks for reading! :3**


	4. DefenselessDelicious

**(A/N) And here is the fourth installment in my Zelda villains series. This is kind of a companion piece to _Controlled_ , but it can stand alone too.**

 **Happy reading! (should I trademark that? olo)**

* * *

 ** _Defenseless/Delicious_**

I smiled and traced my hand over the armor Link wore on his left shoulder, moving closer so I could see his face better. He leaned away, grimacing. After ridding him of that irritating fairy, he'd seemed more responsive, and it had me wondering if that asinine little ball with wings had been whispering in his ear to distract him.

Well, no matter. He was all mine now. Deliciously defenseless.

I smiled wider and snaked my arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to mine. He tried to twist away, but there wasn't a lot of room, and besides, he was just kidding himself. He knew he loved me too.

"Don't be such a raincloud, darling," I said smoothly, stroking that gorgeous blonde hair. Oh, how I had longed to touch it and now, finally, I could. Such softness, like the finest silk.

"Mistress!" called a rather garbled voice from behind us.

I turned around to see a few moblins towing a prisoner with them. Bound in chains and weaponless, I had Princess Zelda completely at my mercy. She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw Link.

 _Oh no, he's mine now._

My smile became a smirk and I let go of Link(however reluctantly), and slowly sunk into my throne.

"Take the Hero and lock him in one of the rooms I set aside earlier," I commanded, and the moblins rushed forward to grab Link. "And be gentle! I don't want him damaged."

I wasn't sure if they heard, but if I found my Link had been hurt in any way I'd be sure to free whoever had done so of the burden of existing. My Link was to be spotless and perfect.

"Link!" the Princess called, struggling against her bonds to try and go to him. "Be careful!"

I snorted, but didn't move. The Princess was kneeling on the floor, her hands behind her back, glaring up at me.

"What?" I raised one of my eyebrows, my smirk growing.

"Don't you dare touch him, witch!" she snarled.

"A feisty one, aren't you?" I rolled my eyes, thinking up all the painful ways I could kill her. "And 'witch'? Well, pardon me, but that is quite offensive."

"Let Link go," she snapped, jerking her shoulders to try and free her arms. "If you want to kill me, then fine. Do so. But at least let Link and Impa leave."

"Impa?" I frowned, trying to remember who that was. "Oh, that Sheikah woman? I think Volga dispatched her. No need to worry about freeing her. And, speaking of Volga, someone get him for me."

My smirk darkened with smug amusement as one of the moblins ran out the doors to retrieve the Dragon Knight.

 _A dragon and a princess; could there be a more fitting bloodbath?_

I laughed to myself, watching the Princess still twisting her arms.

"You aren't going to get out of those, you know." I rolled my eyes for a second time.

"You aren't even going to kill me yourself?" Zelda taunted. "You're just going to let Volga do your dirty work while you watch like the coward you are."

I laughed, a wide grin spreading on my face.

"Oh, but darling," the mockery in my voice was so venomous, I was surprised the moblins left in the room didn't drop dead. "While sure, I have limitless power, I thought the idea was so beautifully cliche, don't you think? The defenseless princess, pleading for mercy from the ruthless fire dragon, it's quite…delicious when you think about it."

She merely glared at me, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

"That's quite unattractive," I commented idly from my throne, flicking my eyes briefly over her while I inspected my flawless nails. "You're never going to get a man if you look like that all the time. Of course, you won't be getting a man anyway, since you're about to die."

Zelda hissed something, but it was drowned out by the clanging of armor as the Dragon Knight arrived.

"Finally," I muttered. "What took you so long?"

"I was across the temple, Milady." Volga stated irritably, the seemingly permanent scowl on his face deepening. Honestly, did he _ever_ smile? What a depressing life.

"Don't make excuses," I snapped. "Now. Kill her."

Volga looked over at Zelda, and then looked back at me.

"Why?"

I laughed, gripping my staff and standing up.

"First of all, because I ordered you to," I said, still smirking. "Second of all, aren't all dragons supposed to kill helpless princesses? Isn't that how the stories go?"

"That is incredibly rude to assume that, Milady," he began slowly, as if unsure of how much he could say, looking over and the Princess again briefly. "And that isn't even the reason that dragons abducted princesses, but aside from that, she is defenseless. I am an honorable knight, and I refuse to attack someone who cannot defend themselves."

"She has her Triforce," I lied smoothly, gesturing to her with my staff.

"No I don't," the Princess interjected. "You took it from me as soon as we got here."

I glared at her, crossing my arms indignantly.

"I still refuse," Volga said, shifting his weight to lean slightly on his halberd.

"Oh well," I gave a fake sigh. "I guess I'll just leave her there. Moblins, begone! I don't want to see anymore of your ugly faces."

I sat back down on my throne and resumed examining my nails. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the Princess and the Dragon Knight exchanged confused looks.

"You should know better than to refuse me, Volga." I smiled coldly and sat up straighter, beginning to laugh. "I said, _kill her!"_

I pointed my staff at him, willing my power to bend to my will. I felt his consciousness slip and become mine, and soon I had complete control over his body. So many possibilities…

"Well?" I leaned back against the throne, placing my staff on my lap. "Go on, kill her. I need some entertainment."

"Of course, Milady." Volga's voice sounded slightly disconnected, and I smirked; he had disobeyed my command, and because of that, I was going to torture them both.

If Volga had been aware, I am sure he would have just run her through and been done with it, not wanting to prolong her agony. Too noble, in my opinion. But now, with Volga under my full control, I could destroy them both. The Princess in body, the Dragon Knight in mind and soul.

I waved my hands and the chains binding Zelda's wrists disappeared, allowing her some freedom of movement. She scrambled to her feet as Volga advanced on her, her chest heaving with heavy pants of breath.

Volga was about a foot away from the Princess when he stopped and knelt down in front of her. I leaned forward in my seat, confused as to what he was doing. It seemed Zelda was confused as well, but she didn't back away like I thought she would, instead choosing to wait for whatever Volga was going to do.

Both I and the Princess were rather startled by what he did, which was catch the Princess's hand and bring it to his lips. I hadn't expected that, and I also had no idea where it had come from.

I frowned, but my frown was turned into a smile when I heard a cry of pain from the Princess as she tried to pull her wrist from his grasp.

He was breathing fire onto her skin.

I laughed, truly amused by the occurences below me. When Volga finally released her wrist, the flesh was so badly damaged I wondered if the Princess could even still move it. Ah well, not my problem. In fact, it worked to my advantage.

Zelda began backing away, crying out when the halberd caught her underneath her shoulder armor and dug deep into the muscle. She fell to the side, clutching at her shoulder with her good hand as the dark red of her blood began to stain her sleeve and glove. She whimpered in pain, but managed to avoid a swing of the halberd, rolling to the side and getting shakily to her feet.

 _Aw, poor defenseless Princess._

"Volga," the Princess pleaded. "Don't listen to Cia, please, break the spell!"

I began to laugh, throwing my head back in hilarity and triumph.

"There is no 'breaking the spell'," I snorted. "It's unbreakable. Beside, neither of you have any Triforce pieces, so you couldn't contest it anyway."

Zelda shot a glare at me, and subsiquently was slammed against the wall in her distraction. Even from my distance I could see the flames begin to lick up Zelda's neck from where Volga's hand was curled around her throat, burning her hair and scorching her face. I relished her screams of agony, delighting in her pain. How delicious.

Volga dropped her, causing her to fall hard on her knees, a fall which she didn't get up from. I wondered if her kneecaps had broken or sprained, and I smirked. Oh, how sweet revenge tasted.

She shook her head, trying to put out the flames in her hair, which she did eventually, but it cost her precious time, and soon Volga's halberd was bearing down on her again. She mostly avoided it, but the tip raked across her right calf, cutting a long tear in the skin from which blood began to leak.

I looked back at Volga to see that he was smiling. Or, well, kind of. It was a sort of cruel smirk, but at least his mouth was tilted up and not down. It was some improvement. It was as if he was taking pleasure in seeing the Princess tortured, which, while _I_ was thoroughly enjoying myself, I was sure that in his right mind Volga would have been horrified.

Eventually I stopped paying any attention to them, preferring to think about my Link, who was waiting somewhere for me, perfect and real, ready to be mine. I could just imagine tasting his lips for the first time, feeling his arms snake around me...I shivered in delight. It had been a long time coming, but finally the Hero was mine. All mine. How delicious victory tasted.

After several more minutes of intense heat(from Volga's fire), and delightful screams of pain(from Zelda), the sounds and tension from the battle faded out and I looked up.

It took quite a bit for me to be repulsed, at least by violence standards, but this was pretty bad. Zelda's face was cut and burnt in several places, and from where I sat I couldn't even tell if she still had eyeballs, and her left hand had been completely removed. I supposed it was probably burning somewhere in the room.

The entire place stank of burnt flesh and blood, and I really wanted to get out of there. I'd have the moblins clean it up later.

Turning to Volga, I ordered him to pick up the body before removing my spell and waiting for him to come to his senses. He did, right about the time he'd lifted the Princess's mutilated corpse in his arms, still kneeling on the floor.

He froze in place, his entire body starting to shake. I smiled in surprised delight. I didn't realize he would be so easy to break. Smirking, I stood up and began walking over to the doors, laughing.

"There, there, little dragon." I said in my most patronizing voice. "Don't look so down, don't dragons always kill princesses in the stories?"

I laughed again and gestured with my staff, laying down the final piece of my plan. I sauntered out, heading for the Hero who was waiting for me.

Now with my new spell taking effect, no matter how hard he tried, Volga could not physically harm himself. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't commit suicide to rid himself of the blame for Zelda's death, which I was sure he was lay on himself.

 _You foolish dragon, you could have spared her and yourself a great deal of pain had you just obeyed my orders. Oh well, this is more fun anyway._

 _Delicious._

* * *

 **(A/N) Cia is a pretty psychotic character too, just like Zant, but they're insane in different ways. Both are quite fun to write though, and Cia's random thoughts about Link are highly amusing in my opinion.**

 **Thanks for reading! :3**


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